Blood and Tequila (Hentai)
by NuzzleBunny
Summary: They had a mission: infiltrate the factory and retrieve evidence of Joker's crimes. How did everything go wrong? Now Balia is in a defiant struggle against a man she hates. Forced to either accept him for survival or die trying for freedom. ADULT CONTENT: Contains mature content not suitable for children or those sensitive to depictions of sado-masochism, rape, and slavery.
1. Chapter 1

**BLOOD AND TEQUILA**

Author's Note:

Well, to start off, I obviously do not own the rights to the One Piece characters. I've always been fascinated by the psyche of Doflamingo, though. Watching and reading the current Dressrosa Arc, I'm often left wondering how a man might come to be such a cruel individual, whether it was possible for him to love, and just how he might perceive "love". Honestly, though, some of the content will be considered brutal for some readers. Keep in mind that this is intended to be a character study into the emotional and sexual nature of (in my opinion) one of One Piece's most cruel and interesting villains.

Story Image Credit:  
"Doflamingo" by Young-Street (on DeviantArt)

[CHAPTER ONE]

Part 1: "Joker's Wild"

He looked her up and down carefully, methodically. There was something about how his head tilted just slightly into the crevice of his curved palm and the quiet smirk permanently stretched across his face that made Balia's stomach flutter. As much as she tried to avoid looking directly at his eyes, it was hard not to cower before him. He was massive, with looming stature nearly double her size. Even the languid hunch in his posture did little to displace the very intimidating feeling about him. He decisively exhaled a sharp sigh, which made her jump a little.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" His tone dripped in condescension, which failed to disguise a note of twisted pleasure hidden just beneath its cool surface. "Why did we find you snooping around in my factory today, hm?"

"I was careless, I suppose," the words fell through Balia's quivering lips with less confidence than she had hoped. Another man had been standing behind her. A wide, Cheshire cat grin seemed to be a permanent fixture on this man's face, but it fell into a grimace of indignation at her reply. He peered down at her with cold indifference, glaring through painted orange and crimson pinstripes. The back of her head was met with a sharp smack and her eyes were met with a flurry of stars.

"Watch your tongue when answering the Young Master or I'll rip that attitude right out of you," he scowled.

That's what they called him: "Young Master". However, he's also known as "King Donquixote Doflamingo", and even "Doffy" to very few. He had many names but, to her, the demon had always been known as "Joker": a monster synonymous in her mind with pain and loss. Some nights this man's smile would haunt her dreams, but this was not a dream. Here the Devil stood before her, his hand lazily lifted for calm. The Cheshire man stepped back a few feet, as Joker allowed a low, dark chuckle to escape from between clenched opalescent teeth.

"That's enough, Diamante. She's no use to us brain damaged. Such a cheeky, little thing. Aren't you, dear?," Joker sucked his tongue absently before getting up from his seat to move closer. "Let's start with something a little easier, then. OK? What is your name?"

Balia refused to talk, which caused Joker to raise a brow.

"You're going to want to play along this time. Even if you don't talk, I have someone in my services who can read thoughts. You won't be able to hide much."

"…Balia," she finally breathed.

"Balia? Balia. Hmm…," he pondered her name momentarily. "I feel like I know that name. Why?"

"I-I really don't know."

"Really? Well, I'm sure it'll come to me later," he looked at her curiously before turning to his associate. "Diamante, it was you who found her?"

"Yes. Violet spotted her inside the factory attempting to get the doors open for an escape and that's where I found her."

"I see… and she gave you that injury, as well?"

Diamante's eyes widened in mild embarrassment and he scoffed. Quickly pulling a pair of confiscated gauntlets out of one of the many small pockets on his clothes. While she had never encountered such an ability, she had been warned about the man, who is said could turn anything he liked into a flag-like material. Certainly enough, the weapon's soft leather and hard metal had indeed been folded neatly. Yet, Diamante quickly returned it to its normal state with the crunch of stiffened fabric. Upon its reveal, Joker inspected carefully with a look of mild annoyance.

"She's skilled with the chain mechanisms on these gauntlets, but this was just a lucky shot," Diamante explained and rubbed the growing lump forming upon his head.

"I'm sure it was. I'd expect she was no challenge for such a skilled champion."

"No. Stop it. It was really nothing, Doffy."

"No, I mean it! You're a very dependable man with such strength," Joker insisted.

"Really. She was no problem at all. Please stop." The man, who was at least a foot taller than Joker, seemed adamant on remaining humbled by the flattery.

"Well, alright then," Joker shrugged in submission.

"Still, if you think that of me then it must be true! Yes, I am certainly a skilled champion," spieled Diamante in a sudden fit of fluster.

"Indeed. Fufufufu," Joker chucked patiently. "And you said there was someone else aiding her?"

Balia's heart froze.

"I had Violet search the whole palace. She found a boy on the Toy House level. When we apprehended him, he had one of the factory fruits on him. She and Trebol are interrogating him now."

"Oh, no…NO! They caught Hidalgo! How?! I thought he got away! This is all my fault!", she quietly cringed in remorse, body slowly going numb in realization.

"Well, well… that was dumb of you two, wasn't it? You both came all the way here by yourselves? Are you suicidal or just plain stupid?"

Balia swallowed at the lump in her throat and gritted back her anger. She tried to ignore the callous way in which he mocked them, but panic had set in and her resolve faded fast. Joker knelt low enough that she could see the rage in her eyes reflecting off his sunglasses. She refused to be denied her revenge!

He chuckled cruelly: "Look at that beautiful expression! So much fight in you that you could spit fire! Still, you must be mostly angry at yourself having finally realized your situation."

"No…," she whispered menacingly; his smile faded slightly. "NO! I'm NOT planning on dying by your hand! I came to expose your twisted crimes, you sick bastard! You do not have the power- !"

The next few moments moved so fast, but she remembered every moment as if in slow motion. His face furrowed, then curled into a grin so rife in cruel fury that her breath suddenly caught in her chest. She hadn't even seen the open hand being pulled back, but had somehow known to brace for the blow. When it met with her face, it felt like the flesh of her cheek had ruptured under a pillar of steel. Her ears rang loudly over the noise of dizzied laughter. Vision tunneled and darkness crept over everything as she faded in and out of consciousness. Yet, he was far from done and shook her awake once more.

"Oh, dear. Look what you made me do! Fufufufu! Don't go to sleep, now. You may have a concussion... Now, what was that? I don't have power, you say? Well, Balia, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you've just misjudged my sense of humor. Let me inform you, though, of what sort of things I do find funny. I mean really funny."

His tone was frightening and drowned in ire.

"What I find hilarious is that you'd think you're in a position to expose anything except your reasons for being here. There are a lot of ways I could get you to give me the answers I want, too. All of them more fun for me than you. I'd hate to scar up such a lovely complexion. So, no more backtalk. Be a good girl and just tell me what I want to know."

She remained defiantly silent, an act that both further annoyed and amused him. He paused to thoughtfully lick his lips: "Why were you in my factory, Balia, and just who in the Hell sent you?"

White knuckles had moved from clutching her jaw and were now tightly squeezed around each arm, with hands that felt like they could crush a man's skull with ease (and probably had done so before). He pulled her in so close now that she could smell the tequila on his breath, the heavy sweat on his tanned brow, and the styling products coming from his short, platinum hair. Huge, sinewy legs crouched low enough that their faces nearly touched. Behind violet lenses, the blurred outline of a madman's gaze peering into her soul made her shiver. For, amongst the mass of his feathery coat, she suddenly realized how small she really was: a fleck swimming in an ocean of garish pink.

"L-let him go…," Balia dared, but she knew it was a long shot.

"What?!"

"P-please, let the boy go and I'll tell you everything," her begging was forced through uncontrolled sobs. She needed a miracle to convince such an inhuman man to show even the slightest of mercy.

"Now, why would I do that?" He looked at Balia with amusement and, frantically, her mind raced to find a good answer. Having found none, she could only implore again:

"Please! I beg of you! H-he's only 15! He's still just a child!"

"Stupid woman. You think I give a shit? Fifteen is practically a man! He's old enough to accept his own consequences," Joker teased maliciously.

"NO! Please! Please just grant us this mercy! Spare him and I'll do anything you ask of me!"

Joker paused with sudden thought before donning a disturbed expression. "'Anything', hm?"

The way in which he said those words sent chills down her spine. The bitterness she felt could not have been any more evident and her contempt any more vindicated. Her stomach clenched back the sickness, from the noises his tongue made lolling, like a beast, inches from her bruising face. He bent in closer and whispered hot breaths into her ear, making every hair stand on end.

"Very well. Luckily you're cute when you're distraught," he cooed venomously and fresh nausea swept over her, curdled with fear. "I'll let the brat go. However, as far as anyone is concerned, you died here today. From now on, you no longer exist. Is that understood?"

Though it was far from ideal, Balia was certain that this was as close to a miracle as she'd ever get. Holding back a whimper and nodding reluctantly, she began to reason with herself: "So long as Hidalgo gets away, I can worry about myself later". Yet, suspicion still lingered.

"How do I know that you'll do as you promise?," she asked.

"…You don't," Joker snickered in reply. "Though, do you really have any other options?"

"…"

"I didn't think so, but I'm a man of my word anyways. Diamante, tell Trebol and Violet to finish with the boy and notify him of her…tragic passing. Kids make shitty toys, anyways. They break too easily."

Joker had stood up swiftly and returned to his chair. For a moment, Diamante turned awkwardly to glance at Balia, the whites of his eyes contrasting vibrantly against the red paint.

"And her?" he inquired.

"Show Miss Balia to the slave quarters. Get her fitted with a collar."

Diamante nodded curtly and proceeded to lift her like a sack of potatoes. Unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder, he turned around so that she faced Joker once more and watched as the demon's smile masked something dark and foreboding. Carried out of the room and down the hall, she was haunted by what that look might mean for her.

[CHAPTER ONE]  
Part 2: "Debt's Owed"

The room was a bit smaller than Balia had expected and the only natural light came from a small window caged with smooth bars - presumably made from sea stone. In the corner was an old mattress next to a leash stake cemented onto the floor. There was a small bathroom sectioned off with a thin, rice paper divider. The chain attached to her collar was just long enough to allow access but, upon testing out the sink, she discovered it only had cold water. A minor inconvenience considering she hadn't expected a bathroom at all.

"You should be so unlucky that the Young Master let you live," the man called Diamante watched her from the doorway and she turned to face him. The sight of the man's grotesque smile looked as though it held back a dark secret.

"I'm not exactly sold on his version of mercy, but I wouldn't call it 'unlucky'" she replied. He chuckled softly.

"Oh? 'Mercy'? Is that what you think this is? Not exactly what I'd call it."

"Why is that?," she almost feared to ask.

"Our Young Master is blessed in many ways: charisma, intellect, skill… However, for men of his…quality…well, some blessings can be more of a curse. Let's just say that not every girl is up to the challenge… I certainly hope, for your sake, that you can give him better mileage than the last one… It was brutal what happened to her."

Her look of silent shock made him snicker and he promptly continued. "Alright, sweetie. Listen up! You'll address the executive members of the Donquixote family as 'madame' and 'sir'. This also goes for Sugar. She might look young, but you will respect her. You'll refer to Doflamingo only as 'Young Master'. You get one meal per day - sometimes two if you're good - and it will be brought to you at 8:00AM sharp. These are the rules and you will follow them. If you talk back, you will be punished and, if you run, that collar will explode, so no tricks. Got it?"

Swallowing hard, she fought back the tears and nodded as calmly as possible. The collar was already slightly cutting into her neck but, in her stubbornness, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. The man gave one final, shit-eating grin before closing the cell door and locking it behind him. Through the bars of her cell, she noted how he neatly folded the keys and placed them into a pocket before leaving.

Suddenly, Balia was alone. Alone with only her thoughts to rack her mind over, of which there were many. Her regret loomed over her. How had they botched the plan up so badly? Why hadn't she stayed with Hidalgo? What happened to him? The worry that Joker had been lying to her about letting him go was eating at her.

I did what I had to do for Hidalgo. What choice did I have?, she convinced herself and it was ultimately true. She knew he was too young to get involved with this mission, but he had insisted she bring him along. He can be so… persistent about things!

There was a lot of time for her to ponder over these thoughts. The passing of the light through the little window allowed Balia to keep track of the days as they passed. Two came and went, with only the attendant that served her meal at 8:00AM coming by. She had tried to talk to him both times, but he never cared to reply. By the 3rd day, she began to worry if Joker had intended on leaving her there to rot, but later that evening she was finally summoned.

Another man - a different man - had come to fetch her this time. He reminded her of a massive slug, as his body seemed to consist of a foul slime. With every move, he'd make a wet slurping noise. He even seemed to carry with him the bits of filth from the floor, which hung suspended in his gelatinous form.

"Ne! Ne~! Look lively! The Young Master is asking to see you~!," the man boomed and, with surprising speed, stretched his massive face in so close that she nearly puked.

"Ugh!"

"Eeeeeeeeh?," his head tilted to one side but remained far too close for comfort.

"I-I mean, alright," Balia regained her composure and forced a polite smile. "Let's go, then?"

"Behehehehe! Alright! Hurry up, then!" He unchained her from the floor and she followed him without resistance back through the corridors.

"What does Jo-, I mean, the Young Master want with me, s-sir?" she found the formalities surprisingly uncomfortable.

"How the Hell should I know? Behehehe! Just shut up and keep a move on, stupid woman," his nasally laugh seemed to stick in his throat. He didn't appear to be a very intelligent man but Balia decided not to press the matter any further. When they arrived at the Throne Room, Joker was sitting at his seat finishing a game of chess with an older gentleman.

"Checkmate," he languished his words with a slow drawl.

"G~!" exclaimed the old man in surprise. "You've beaten me again, Young Master! The mind of youth is truly sharper than its elders'!"

"Fufufufufu… you're the one who taught me how to play, Lao G. Your wisdom accounts for much," Joker chuckled before turning his attention toward them.

The sluggish man chained her to the floor once more: "Alright~, Doffy! I've brought the girl for you! Just like you asked, right~?"

"Fufufufu… So you have. Thank you, Trebol! Now, if the two of you could please give us some privacy. Miss Balia and I have matters to discuss." The slimy man, Trebol, and the elderly Lao G both bowed respectfully before exiting the room and closing the heavy, wooden doors behind them.

In the moments that followed, nothing was said. She simply watched as he carefully rearranged the chess board back into its starting layout. He crossed one leg casually to reveal the bottom of a worn-in shoe. A random thought entered her mind, as she imagined they must be custom made for their tremendous size. Though this thought quickly passed when she realized he had started tapping one sole rhythmically against the floor.

"Fufufufufu…It's time for you to uphold your end of the deal, my dear," his grin, unflinching as ever.

"You upheld your end, then?," she knew to never expect a straight answer.

"I have. The boy - Hidalgo, was it? He was released, as agreed."

Her sigh of relief echoed through the spacious room: "Okay. Then, what might you need me to do?"

"It's not what I 'might' need from you. It's what I do need from you and, by now, you ought to know what that is."

"I-information?" she replied hopefully.

"Nyeheheh," Joker began to cackle in amusement. "I don't need information from you! That boy cracked and told my associates everything we needed to know."

His tongue stuck out in a mocking fashion, "No… what I want from you is, as we agreed, 'anything I ask'."

Lifting himself up and stalking towards Balia with long, aggressive strides, her body suddenly went numb and she managed to sputter out a reply: "W-what? What do you mean?"

"Evidence to the contrary, I don't believe you're as dumb as you let on, so I shouldn't need to spell it out for you. You belong to me now and I will do with you any little whim I might feel compelled to experiment with."

Her breathing went shallow and panicked. Desperately, she searched for a way out, that didn't exist. For a second time this week, his presence loomed over her and, for a second time in her life, she felt utterly small. "Y-you can't! No! Please! Don't!"

"You should feel it an honor to be subservient to a Celestial Dragon. Your life could not possess a greater purpose than to serve a god. Regardless, this was the deal we made. Was it not?"

"Wha-? NO! That wasn't - I didn't mean that at all!"

"Fufufufufu," his breath cast itself over her face and a firm hand reached down to unlock the chain from the floor. She began to fight back violently. "Hush, now. Let this be a lesson. Perhaps you'll be more… careful with your words next time."

With one hand gripped onto the leash, the fingers of his free hand began to curl in a strange manner and, with a sharp sensation, Balia suddenly became aware of the listlessness of her limbs. An odd sensation enveloped her body, which had begun to move without her permission and on its own accord. Helpless, she could only follow, as she was lead to the back of the hall and into a dim room.

[CHAPTER ONE]  
Part 3: "Smother"

As they entered the back room, Balia made note of her surroundings. The walls of the palace were masoned out of stone bricks and this room was no exception. The furniture was sparse but exquisite in quality.

On one wall was a row of tall windows, warm light from the setting sun brushed past heavy crimson drapes. On the other wall was a massive, canopy bed, that seemed seldom used. Indeed, the area that appeared to be the most lived in was around the chaise lounge, which sat next to the windowed wall. The few side tables surrounding it were populated by numerous den-den mushi. Some peered at her inquisitively but most slept peacefully amongst half drank bottles of liquor. The room reeked of sweat and tequila.

Her body twitched involuntarily towards the bed and, as she approached, she found herself disturbed that the man would have another anchor on the floor beside it. He didn't appear keen on using it, though, and instead pulled out a small key with which he removed her collar.

"We can take this off for now. You have nowhere to escape."

He stood up slowly and flashed a predatory smile. Casually slipping two fingers underneath one of the straps of her bra. Balia's body trembled in reply.

"What do you plan to do, Joker?," she mustered the courage to ask and he frowned suddenly.

"You don't call me that… To you, I'm 'Young Master'. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"Yes?"

Balia winced and begrudgingly shot him a sarcastic expression: "Yes, Young Master."

"Fufufufufu! That's my girl. It seems you still have some fight left in you. Good! Breaking the strong ones is my favorite part," his words were heavy with anticipation. "To answer your question, today I felt like experimenting with 'breath play'. Do you know it?"

"N-no."

"Fufufu. Well, then I guess it'll be a surprise, won't it?" His tongue lolled out. He absently wiped at a bead of spit that fell from his lips and sat down on the mattress, which bowed under his weight. "Now, I want you to take off those clothes for me, but do it slowly… I want to watch."

His eyes were fixated upon her. For a moment, she could only stare at him stubbornly, but suddenly decided to oblige. When it came to a man with the power to turn people into puppets, she preferred to be in control of her own body.

Joker reached out and swiftly brushed her long hair away from soft shoulders, as her fingers caught the thin fabric of her top. She lifted it up slowly until it cradled under her arms, then completely pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the floor. The room was rather chilly, causing goosebumps to form across exposed flesh. He purred at the sight of her shivering, nibbling on his thumb to subdue the want.

"Awwww. What's the matter? You cold?" His cooing was more cruel than concerned.

"I'm fine."

"Fufufu! So strong! Don't worry. You'll be warm soon. Keep going."

Balia's eyes were cast onto the floor and her fingers nervously fidgeted with the button on her pants. With some effort, it popped open. The zipper came next, but she hesitated slightly before letting them fall to the floor. They revealed her pair of black, cotton panties that hugged over trembling hips.

With a sigh, Joker placed his fingers between her legs and pressed up towards her. His finger traced back and forth, pushing the soft fabric slowly inward until it moistened.

"For someone who says she doesn't want this, your body certainly seems eager," he chuckled and her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

"I-It doesn't mean anything!," Balia insisted, though she felt quite annoyed with her body for responding in this way.

"Maybe not… or maybe it means the thought of me touching you makes you excited."

She hated the idea. That she could ever be turned on by such a disgustingly cruel man was too humiliating for her to imagine. Yet, with every stroke of his strong fingers across her lips, she could feel her legs growing weaker. Occasionally, Joker would jiggle his thumb against her clit and coo as she choked back a whine.

After a few minutes of teasing, he pulled Balia towards him and onto the bed. The duvet was downy soft underneath her back. Joker's smile vanished as he gripped at her stubborn thighs, but it returned when he had managed to force them open and lowered his head between them. He inhaled her scent and growled darkly, tracing his tongue along her slit.

"W-wait! Please!," Balia's cries went ignored, as he began suckling the juices from the fabric and enthusiastically prodded at her hole with the tip of his tongue. His saliva mingled with her wetness and soaked the underwear, making them grow uncomfortable against such sensitive skin. Every now and then, he'd hum in pleasure. The vibrations cascaded up through her body and escaped through mangled moans.

One of Balia's hands were gripped into the blanket and the other was desperately tangled in his golden hair. She gasped in surprise, as his tongue made its way underneath, lifting the damp cloth up just enough for sharp teeth to take hold and rip them violently from her body. The cool air of the room chilled the moistness between her legs, but for only the seconds it took for him to dispose of her bra. After that, she was warmed once again when his mouth traced its way down her body, over her hardened nipples, and returned to diligently playing against her clit.

Although it was unwanted and her mind recoiled, her body writhed in an unexpected pleasure. Nothing about this was supposed to arouse her but the temptation to give in had become more appealing. Still, she stifled every noise she could in an effort to refuse his satisfaction.

He smirked up at her from between reddening thighs: "You're still trying to resist, hm? When are you going to figure out that I always get what I want? Just give in to the pleasure…"

Without warning, he swiftly slipped one of his long, powerful fingers into her body and she let out a yelp!

"Fufufu! Yes. Like that," his words were filled with satisfaction, as his other hand pushed down over her belly so that she could feel every movement inside her. "I love it when my pets make little noises."

His finger tip curled and began tickling her G-spot. Occasionally, making noises of amusement at her frustrated groans and expressions of humiliated pleasure. A second finger prodded the hole optimistically soon after, but Balia refused once again. She tightened herself in defiance.

"Hm…It'll be unpleasant if you don't let it in. Really, I'm doing you a huge favour," he explained with some annoyance. "You'll want to be stretched out a bit first or the next step's going to be a little… messy."

Still, Balia resisted. If it was all she could do to defy him then she'd do her best to never let him inside of her.

"Suit yourself," she could tell he was slightly miffed but it did little to discourage him. Instead, he removed his finger and raised it to his lips. He inhaled deeply and licked the flavor off. Hastily, he unzipped his pants and revealed his throbbing cock. His had wrapped around it and Balia began to panic. It looked to be the length and thickness of her arm, a size that might be expected from a man of his physical stature.

"E-even if you did stretch me… that thing would never fit!"

"Fufufufufu! I think you'll be surprised at what your body can take… Besides, I'll make it fit."

Before she could protest further, he climbed on top of her, the weight of his body rushed the wind from her lungs and left her gasping for air. All around her, Joker's feather coat tickled against her breasts and surrounded her in shadow. Her legs cramped at being spread apart around his hips, but eventually bent in an effort to find relief.

Balia winced. She could feel the soft, fleshy head of his cock protruding against her, searching for the opening. When he located it, Joker pushed into her with slow persistence and she groaned under its undeniable force. A sharp cry escaping as the skin slightly tore to allow entry.

The flowing mixture of saliva, sex, and flecks of blood helped his needy prick during its eager search for warmth. She found that he could not be refused no matter how hard she tried. Her hips widened to allow for his massive girth and her body suddenly flushed with more heat to offset the pain. Joker startled her with an abrupt moan, as the remaining few inches entered.

"Hm… wonderful! How rare," he breathed a throaty growl. "Not many women can take me right to the base. You've had experience with larger men, haven't you?"

She was in too much shock to answer, but he didn't seem to care. With one arm wrapped behind her hips, and in slow, methodical thrusts, he began to gently rock in and out. In this moment, Balia realized that she was merely a toy for his pleasure. Her ears were met with the noisy slurping sounds with each draw and, with every thrust, the dampened pop of cock hitting flesh.

Gradually, they picked up in speed and she found it impossible to hold back the cries. Her whole body bracing for each impact, which barreled into her with intense speed and force. Smooth, tanned abs glistened above her with pearls of sweat that began to fall across her face. He seemed to relish every moment inside of her, his thrill expressed through an assortment of groans and sighs.

After a few minutes, Joker hunched his back so that he could look down at her, with clenched jaw and teeth gritting with such intensity. Balia nearly hadn't noticed the way in which he had propped himself up on one arm to stare at her but the other hand had quietly slipped around her throat and began to firmly squeeze. She began to panic!

"Don't struggle," Joker chuckled in a breathy voice, hips never missing a beat. His hand maintaining a steady pressure so that it became hard for her to breathe. "It's all part of the game."

"Game?" Balia gasped at him in frantic confusion. This psychopath was choking the life out of her! How was it a game?!

"Shhhh…don't talk. You'll run out of air faster if you talk," he warned and then, with a knowing look, his voice grew deep and serious. "You'll last longer if you just give in."

A sudden realization dawned upon Balia… the realization that he was right. Whether it was giving in now or completely, she'd live longer if she stopped fighting. However, at this point, it was too late. She had almost run out of oxygen and her vision had grown dim, but the pleasure of his cock throbbing inside of her was overwhelming.

She felt her body buckle under the growing intensity of an orgasm. It vibrated every nerve in her spine and threw her into a dizzying blissful confusion. She grew numb and, before passing out, could still faintly feel Joker's body spasming in release and hear his guttural yell, as his cum warmed inside her.

Everything went black.

...

...

...

A rush of hot air suddenly filled her lungs. Balia came to and found Joker hovering above her. Had he been resuscitating her?, she wondered. He pulled back to allow her room to sputter and gasp for air, as his strong arms lifted her onto his lap and held her there.

She realized that they were sitting in the Throne Room one more and that Joker had turned his attention to quietly putting her clothes back on. The collar had been the first thing to return.

"You're alive, I see. That's good," he chuckled callously.

"W-what happened?" whimpered Balia in a state of confusion.

"I think we just discovered that breath play is fun, wouldn't you agree?" His fingers lightly brushed against her collar and she became aware of the tenderness coming from the bruising hand-print on her throat.

"N-no! You nearly killed me!"

"Nearly, but you're not dead, are you?"

"That's not the point! Why didn't you just let me die?"

"You're a good fuck. In my books, that's someone worth keeping alive," he sneered at her but was puzzled at the angry frown she had, as she glared up at him. "Fufufu! Now, now… It must have been good for you, too! You seemed really into it. Twitching like a bitch in heat around my prick."

An overwhelming sensation of humiliation and shame swept over her for having allowed a man she loathed the joy of making her cum.

"Fufufu! Don't beat yourself up too badly. You'll have better luck resisting me next time."

Next time? Oh, God! I'd rather be dead, she thought frantically and Joker finished putting on the last of her clothes. Suddenly, the large doors were opened. Trebol's gooey figure slowly crept across the floor towards them.

"Ne~! Ne, ne! I'm here, Doffy!"

"Good timing, Trebol. There will be a change in arrangements for the time being. Balia should now be considered my personal pet. She will no longer be sleeping in the slave quarters," Joker grinned coyly and firmly placed his hand atop her head. "Set her up in the East Wing. Violet's old room with the sea prism lock should do."

"Eh~?!," Trebol looked surprised, but almost pleasantly so. "Behehehe! Sure, Doffy!"

Handing over the leash to his associate, Joker's other hand slid down Balia's back, between her legs and (without being perceived) pushed up against her swollen pussy. She was limping slightly and could hear Joker chuckle at her softly under his breath, as Trebol led her away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note****:**

Thank you to everyone who has read, fav'd, and followed _Blood and Tequila_! I'm so happy that people are enjoying it and will continue writing it so long as people enjoy it! :D

For now, this is only part one of Chapter 2. I plan on splitting each chapter into 2-3 parts, so I'll update this with part 2 shortly. I also plan on doing some more editing on Chapter 1, because there's quite a few mistakes that somehow flew under my radar when editing. (=_=) This chapter is more character and plot development than anything, but I hope you'll all still enjoy it!

**Artist Credit**:

"Doflamingo" by Young-Street (DeviantArt)  
[Used with Permission]

**[CHAPTER 2]**  
**Part 1: "Promise"**

For the rest of the walk back, Trebol would occasionally glance at her unsettlingly with a quizzical smile. As before, however, he remained apparently disinterested in chatting. Though the reason for her limp likely didn't bring him any concern, she was rather relieved that he hadn't bothered to pry.

It wasn't until they reached her new accommodations that he finally turned to her and spoke. His voice, slow and phlegmy, yet somehow still obnoxiously loud: "Ne, ne! Woman, I don't know how you survived, but I just won 10,000 Beli thanks to you~! Beheheheh! Survive round two, would ya~? Diamante still doesn't think you'll last! Behehehehehe!"

He mocked her with a nasally laugh. Closing the door behind him and locking the sea stone deadbolt, Trebol made his way back down the hall. Meanwhile, Balia could feel her blood begin to boil in indignation.

"T-they were betting on me?!" her voice cracked slightly. "Those dickwads were BETTING on me?!"

Part of her wanted to scream at Joker, at herself, at the Universe…but she settled upon Trebol, whose abhorrent laughter still sang in echoes down the long, stone corridor. Storming up to the door and, with the deepest breath she could muster, Balia screamed at the top of her lungs:

"FUCK YOU, YOU REPULSIVE SLUG!"

Yet, to her dismay, Trebol merely seemed pleased by her outburst. His laughter picked up into a near hysteric fit in response, which only served to infuriate her further. The feeling of utter helpless defiled her emotions and challenged her self-control. With nothing more for her to do, she threw herself onto the bed and could only cry bitterly.

A week went by before Balia knew it. During that time, Joker hadn't summoned her even once and, with her limited choice in pass-times, the days seemed to stitch themselves together one moment at a time, until each one was nearly indistinguishable from the next.

She almost enjoyed the silence now, though. A barred window from her room, which was far larger than her previous vacancy, looked out across the chilly, snow-powdered courtyard and towards the open ocean. It was during these moments of quiet stillness, when the gulls flew by on their way to wherever, that she took time to recall the sensation of freedom.

An quick, sharp knock at the door abruptly shook her from her daydream. It felt…peculiar, since none of the family members were ever so polite as to knock before entering her quarters. Yet, the door calmly opened and she was greeted by the face of a beautiful (but well-endowed) woman. After a few moments, she soon realized her attention had settled for a little too long on the woman's… assets… and she quickly averted her eyes. The woman seemed to pick up on this, because she laughed shyly.

"Oh. Haha! I-it's okay, really. They enter the room before I do, so I don't blame you for noticing… Balia, right?," the woman inquired in a friendly enough fashion and calmly closed the door behind her. Balia nodded, her face still slightly flushing red. "Balia, my name is Violet. May I please sit down?"

Balia nodded once more but began searching through her memory when she heard the name. She had remembered hearing it somewhere before, and the recollection came to her suddenly. Joker had mentioned a woman named Violet, who interrogated Hidalgo with the slug man, Trebol.

"Um, madame?… A-are you a member of the Donquixote family?"

Violet approached and gracefully took a seat in the vacant chair across from her. She couldn't help but noticed a sudden look of sadness flicker across the woman's face, before being tactfully hidden with a sweetened smile.

"I suppose I am, but you can just call me Violet. No need for formalities when it's just you and I around. Alright?"

Though she wasn't certain about the sincerity of Violet's kindness, it was a welcome change none-the-less. "Alright. What can I do for you, Violet?"

"Well, I had been meaning to come visit you for some time, you see, but the family keeps a close eye on me. I wanted to talk to you about the day we apprehended you in the factory."

"…Oh, I get it. So, Jok-," she caught herself. "I mean, the Young Master sent you? To get more information from me then, did he?"

"Hm…no. That's not it. Actually, _Joker_ doesn't know anything about my being here. I came here on my own accord."

Balia flinched. Had a member of the Donquixote family just referred to Doflamingo as "Joker"? Why?

"The truth is," Violet continued. "I already know why you were in the factory. He, however, still does not…"

"What? What do you mean?," Balia became alert. Was this some sort of lie intended to trick her? If so, then why wouldn't Joker have just gotten the information from her himself? She pressed further:

"You were the one who interrogated the boy who was with me, were you not? Joker said you got all the information from him already. What more could you want from me?"

Violet nodded and lowered her voice to a whisper, a coy smirk curling across her lips: "It's true that I got all the information from him, but I didn't necessarily tell the others _everything_."

"Wh-what do you mean? What didn't you tell them?"

Violet sighed and gazed wistfully out the window, then swiftly changed the subject:

"This used to be my room, you know."

"So I've heard. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Haven't you ever wondered why a member of the Donquixote family would be given a room with bars on the windows and a deadbolt on the door?"

"Wha-?," she stumbled on her reply. The thought hadn't occurred to her. Yet, now that Violet had mentioned it, it was rather strange. "No, I hadn't. Why would that be?"

"I was once a prisoner in this room, too, Balia."

"You were a prisoner?! Why? I mean, h-how did you escape?"

Violet gave a polite chuckle, but her smile slightly faded as the weight of her answer settled into the forefront of her thoughts:

"Honestly…I haven't escaped. Not yet, at least. I'm still a prisoner of sorts. Just with more privileges, I guess… That's why I'm really here, actually, because I know what he's keeping you for. I understand better than most the extent of his cruelty and the means in which he will try to break you. Whatever you do, though…don't let that happen. You mustn't let him break you!"

Violet's words were emboldened with such passionate care that they rattled Balia. A backlog of emotions that she had been struggling to secure all week began to swell once more. Left with a sudden breathlessness, she could not find the words to speak, so Violet continued.

"If he breaks you, then you're done for. Do you hear me? In this family, nothing could be seen as more useless than a person who is weak. Don't let him see you that way or he'll find no further reason to keep you around."

"Why should I care?," her words were sharp and bitter, which threw Violet off momentarily. "I'd rather die than continue being his 'pet'!"

"I understand. It's hard, I know, but you mustn't say that! There are others wiling to fight! Allies who plot against him! You don't know them but I ask that you trust in their strength to end his terror."

"Why?…Why are you telling me this, and why would you even trust me to keep all this a secret?"

"Because I always trust my instincts when it comes to people. I can tell you're a kind person and very strong, too. I empathize with your feelings of hopelessness but, when the time comes, we're going to need all the help we can get! Diamante told us that you were skilled enough to injure him in combat. I'll need you to stand beside us!"

"Then what? What happens after? Everyone thinks I'm dead and...and... Hidalgo. Hidalgo could be anywhere by now!"

"No. He knows you're alive and I've made certain that he's safe. Here, on this island. I swear to you…," Violet whispered and gave her a look of sympathetic compassion. "He's your son, isn't he?"

Balia's mind raced in panic. How had she known? Hidalgo knew to never divulge that information!

"Don't worry… You don't have to tell me out-loud. I already know the answer, but Joker doesn't. I plan to keep it that way for both Hidalgo's sake and yours. All you need to do is keep on living. Keep living for him, for yourself…or, if need be, keep living for the day in which you can witness the downfall of this wicked family. Pray that day will come soon."

Echoed voices at the end of the corridor startled Violet: "I have to go, but before I do I need you to promise me that you'll never tell a soul that I was here and... and that you won't let him break you. Promise me that you won't let him break you, Balia…"

"I-I promise," she managed to stutter through increasing tears. Violet gently touched her face and smudged them away reassuringly. "W-wait… Thank you… Violet…"

Violet gave a smile, that calmed and comforted the silence between them, before darting out the room and locking the door behind her.

It wasn't much. No, not much at all, but it was still _something_. Something small and warm to hold in her heart as she drifted off to sleep that night. For all Balia knew, the woman's words might have all been a lie. Still, it didn't feel that way to her. Not then, nor in the days to follow, when the real test of that simple promise would begin:

"He won't break me." 

**[CHAPTER 2]**

**Part 2: "Mind-fields"**

As Joker, he was a powerful chaos. As Doflamingo, he was tremendously wealthy. As the king, he was beloved by all…

"So, why do I have such discontentment?," he called out-loud towards the only other person standing in the room: a middle aged man with alarmingly dangerous looking hair. The man shifted in his position uncomfortably, sighing in frustration through his white, leather mask that covered the bottom half of his face. Were anyone able to see his eyes through the tinted, studded goggles, they might agree that he was squinting in disbelief at Doflamingo. That he was being asked such a precarious question, by a man whose temper rivaled his own and yet seldom gave as much warning, was definitely not ideal.

Though he cherished and respected him, Gladius hated when the Young Master drank. It'd always started out as a single glass each night with the members of the family, under the guise of celebrating a successful day. Yet, after the toasts were made, the spirits were finished, and everyone else had shuffled off to their rooms, the Young Master would linger behind and continue to polish off a bottle (or two). Those were the nights they dreaded the most… Nights he'd spend postulating to anyone who'd listen - even if just to himself - on his thoughts. Like troubled shrapnel suspended within a raptured mind, the star-crossed lovers of genius and bedlam would take turns leading the other in a frantic tango dance: sultry and dark. It was in that darkness that he would remain until sunrise.

From time to time he delved into things that every family member (save his close executives) knew they had an obligation to forget, before stumbling off to his room to sleep it all off. Some mornings, though, they'd find him still slouched in his chair or lying on the floor, clinging to a bottle. The executives had all grown accustomed to this habit. Gladius admired how effortlessly they were able to handle such situations, but he knew that he, with his notorious impatience and annoyance with small talk, was woefully ill equipped to deal with the Young Master in these more private moments. Really, though, it was not his place to know these things about the man.

"Um, I'm not sure what you mean… What do you ask, Young Master?," he hoped that answer would suffice.

"You heard me…," came the slurred reply. Gladius' heart nearly stopped when he heard the sinister tone, but breathed a sigh of relief when the rambling continued. He had to keep him talking was all, then excuse himself the first chance he got.

"I have a kingdom that adores me. I've honed incredible power, as well as another chance to gain immortality now that Law has finally come home! Our production of SMILE is ahead of schedule, for fuck's sake! Everything is going according to plan, Gladius!"

"M-my apologies, Young Master. I don't understand what's wrong?"

Doflamingo rolled his eyes and chuckled, loudly swallowing another mouthful of strong tequila with a wince. "That's just the thing… neither do I. So, why do I still feel miserable if nothing is wrong?"

"I-I'm not sure I know," diverting the Young Master's attention away from the subject was his best option now. "What about that pet you're keeping?"

"What about her?"

"W-w-well, I've noticed that you've been more… melancholy since your last meeting with her. Also, I don't think you've summoned for her since then! Did she anger you, perhaps?"

"No. I actually like this one! She's got a lot of spunk in her," he chuckled at his own sick joke. "Still…"

"What? What is it?"

"There is something about her that bothers me. The way she stared at me afterward, perhaps? Yes…that must be it. It's those eyes… I've seen them before… but where?"

"I'm sorry, Young Master, but what do you mean, 'the way she stared at you'?"

"…with hatred, Gladius. So much hate… I'm no stranger to being as loathed as I am loved. I've seen hatred in the eyes of the envious, the weak, and the dead, but her… that hatred was pure. Sure, there was defeat there, too, and I relished in it, but there was also a hatred that seemed to come from a pitch-black depth of her loathing. You'd think I'd remember where I had seen a look like that before, huh?"

In utter disbelief, Gladius realized that he did not know how to proceed with this discussion. All he could do was mutter a quick, "I see", and hope for the best.

"Well, no matter. It's probably nothing… Ah! My bad! I must be boring you, Gladius!"

"What? No! Not at all!"

"Oh, please. Stop lying… Do you know who cares less about my problem than me?"

"Um, who?"

"Everyone…," the Young Master sighed, but quickly recomposed himself to grin back at his confused officer. "It's fine. I'm fine! Really! Go check on SMILE, please… Also, if you see one of the servants standing around, tell them to make themselves useful and bring me up another bottle of tequila."

"Yes, Young Master," Gladius bowed in quiet relief and quickly took his exit, leaving the inebriated man with only his echo to converse with.

"Balia… where does such a pretty thing find within her such an endless loathing for me?"

In his mind, Doflamingo replayed her expression over and over to no avail. After a few minutes of this, however, something clicked and it all came rushing back onto him with a violent heaviness. He could not remember the last time he had encountered fear of this magnitude but, within its haunting clutches, he felt himself unraveling like a ball of string. It was that look that had reminded him. Reminded him of the unseen crowd of people surrounding him with flame and weapons, as his failure of a father sobbed for mercy. They shouted at him with such bile and venom that each word seared itself into his soul and would recant this horror often.

Instinctively, he swung at his attackers but found that he could not move. Arms and feet bound with steadfast ropes and stretched high up on a cold, stone wall, he was forced to listen as they spat, hissed, and beat at his body for crimes he knew not of and did not commit. What did such lowly trash know? Know of his power and divine right to rule over their pathetic, little lives? They could only hope to attain such significance, the ungrateful filth!

The squeal of an arrow hurdled forward and ripped through his abdomen with sharp, blossoming pain. He screamed in agony and his anger seethed and mingled with the blood gurgling up in the back of his throat! Through the fury, he thought he could hear a man screaming something at him but could care less about what had been said. All that had mattered with the indignation cast upon him by reckless scum. How dare they hurt him? How dare they mock his godliness?! They would regret the day…

"You'll all pay for this!," Doflamingo heard himself bellow through wailing sobs. "I WILL NOT DIE! No matter what you do to me, I will survive AND KILL YOU ALL ONE BY ONE! UNTIL NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS LEFT ALI-!"

"DOFFY!," came the unexpected interruption. "Doffy?! Doffy! Snap out of it, please!"

In a fit of enraged delirium, Doflamingo awoke to find himself screaming and flailing about on the floor. Diamante stood over him and had been shaking him out of the nightmare.

"Doffy?! It's okay! You're safe, now!"

"W-what? What happened?," he struggled to calm himself and cursed breathlessly in embarrassment.

"I think you were having another flashback. I came running as soon I heard you scream."

"Was I screaming this time? Ugh… shit. I'm sorry to have scared you, Diamante. Thank you for waking me."

"It was nothing, Doffy. Try to get some rest," Diamante's face held a look of concern and helped the large man to his feet.

"Yes. I should. Good night, then," he mumbled, stumbling slightly before turning to leave. He paused as he got to the doorway, though: "Diamante?"

"Yes?"

"That girl…"

"Which one?," Diamante's Cheshire cat grin slightly returned but fell when he noticed the look of confusion on his captain's face.

"The new girl… Balia. I think she's what triggered it this time."

"What? Her? How?!"

"I don't know…"

"Hm? You're a brilliant captain, Doffy, but perhaps you've a penchant for over-thinking things sometimes. Regardless, do you want me to dispose of her?"

"No. That won't be necessary. It wasn't her, really. It think it was just her eyes. So much hatred in them for me, Diamante… I wish I knew why it concerns me so much…"

"Ah. I see. Well, she's just a stubborn one, that girl, but you'll break her in time! I'm sure of it! She'll come to respect you, as the other girls do."

"…yes. You're probably right. I should break her… No… I MUST break her, Diamante. Break her so that the only one she'll have left to hate is herself! Fufufufufu," his smile grew wide and menacing, but belied a hint of lingering uncertainly. Without another word, he continued out the door and down the hall, but that thought had rooted itself in the forefront of his drunken mind. Right up until the moment he finally fell back asleep, it was all he would dream restlessly of that night:

"I must break her…"


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

I am SO sorry for the huge gap of time between chapters! I have beens super busy. Went to Cancun for a week and have been completing prep work for an intensive 2-month web development boot camp program. Also, I'm pretty strict about being happy with the content and direction of a chapter before publishing it, so I won't put it up until I'm satisfied with how it turns out.

If you didn't see it already, I also wrote two chapters for a Hunter x Hunter fanfic I've begun called "The Crimson Lottery". So, if you are a Hunter x Hunter fan (or even just a fan of Hisoka and Illumi) then please check it out! ^_^

Finally, I want to warn fans of Blood and Tequila that, although some chapters will be hentai, much of the chapters will simply be plot and character development. This is a fandom fic with a bit of hentai in it. Not a hentai fic with a bit of fandom in it. :)

So, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I made it longer for your reading pleasure! THANK YOU!

**AUTHOR'S UPDATE:**

June 16th, 2015

Hey, everyone! Thank you all for your encouraging feedback, faves, and follows! At the moment, however, I'm attending school full-time (5 days a week, 12 hours a day), so I just don't have time to write much on my stories. :( Good news is that the course is only until mid-August, so I'll have lots of time then to write. Also, I'll do my best to update sooner if possible!

Thank you! - NuzzleBunny

**CHAPTER 3**

"Valiance"

Balia awoke the next morning to the sound of brisk footsteps approaching the door, which abruptly flew open moments later. A blurry figure was all she could make out as she struggled to process what was happening. An arm had firmly wrapped itself around her waist and had lifted her to her feet; settling her as she wobbled precariously.

"Oi! Wake up, girl," growled Diamante. She groaned as the fog lifted and winced. Not a face she wanted to wake up to. He huffed a dramatic sigh:

"How did such an uncoordinated woman land a hit on me? It's disgraceful! Still, the Young Master has asked for you, so you have 2 minutes to get ready before we go."

"Uh, alright…," she muttered and he clicked his tongue impatiently. She had hoped he'd allow her time to wash up in the bathroom, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to let her press her luck.

Upon stepping into the light of the early morning, everything looked all at once unfamiliar. Maybe it was simply the cheerful glimmer of mineral flecks in the stone walls… or maybe it was the sudden flood of relief of being out of that confined room. Whatever it was, Balia allowed herself to embrace the joy of the moment; a moment all too quickly soured by the presence of Diamante's intimidating smile.

"Just a heads up," he began as they turned a corner. "The Young Master is in a bit of a foul mood this morning, so mind your manners. Wouldn't want to piss him off… Uahahahaha!"

"Thank you for the warning," she replied flatly and with some annoyance. He likely had another sick bet going with Trebol. Yet, much to her relief, they continued without a single mentioning of it. Instead, she chose to focus on her surroundings. It became quickly apparent that they were going a different way this time. Opting to turn down a bright, decorated hall and through a large doorway.

Upon entering, she discovered it was actually a rather eloquently decorated banquet hall. Joker was sitting at the end of the long, carved, table that stretched down the center of the room, clutching what appeared to be some "hair of the dog". His other hand was busy cradling his forehead. It took her a moment to notice Violet sitting a few seats over, glancing at her with a look of subdued concern.

"Doffy… I brought the girl," Diamante stood just behind her. They all watched as the man lifted his head sluggishly and, with fingers tangled through thick, platinum strands, massaged his thumb into his right temple.

"Thank you, Diamante," he grinned, but slightly winced at the loud echoing in the room. He waved Diamante away, who quietly gave her one last look of disdain before turning to leave. It wasn't long before the doors closed and the air of the room thickened. She could see Violet shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye, but didn't want to provoke his suspicion by holding eye contact with her for too long.

After a moment of composing himself, he finally turned his attention fully towards Balia.

"We meet again, my pet," this time he was ready for the echo. "How are you enjoying your new living arrangements?"

"An improvement, but a locked room is still just a cage."

The slightest twitch made his smile grow for only just a moment or two, but it remained otherwise unwavering. The next sound she heard was not a word nor a laugh, but rather the metallic clang of a serving tray lid being lifted. Admittedly, the quality of her meals had improved somewhat since she was moved, but they were still limited to only one, small serving per day. So, upon seeing the assortment of food at the table, she immediately understood the game he was playing.

He was luring her. What she didn't know was why. Had they found out about Violet's visit? Or perhaps Violet had been working for him the whole time? That seemed the more likely case.

"Come! Join us for breakfast, please," he gracefully extended an open palm towards an empty chair beside him.

"I'm not really all that hungry," Balia sighed flatly and, in familiar fashion, his characteristically deep chuckle boomed in reply.

"Nonsense. Don't lie. You're starving! I've made sure of that… Perhaps?… No, it likely is because you're suspicious of why you're here. Of why I haven't killed you yet. Can't really blame you for not trusting me, I suppose."

She hadn't expected him to be so straight-forward. It took her a few seconds to process this. She could hear a voice quietly reminding her, "He won't break me".

"Perhaps… I _am_ wondering about that… Why _haven't_ you killed me?"

"Well… Truthfully, my dear? I find you intriguing. There's just something about you I haven't quite been able to… put my finger on…," he crooned suggestively and she failed to suppress a shudder. "…but, alas, I can be so indecisive at times. So, I've decided that I'm still not convinced you're worth keeping."

"'Convinced'? …You want me to beg for my life? You'll be disappointed."

"Oh, no. Nothing so dramatic! There's plenty of time for that show and dance if you fail to impress me. More like, I want to get to know you. Only so I can better determine if you're the type of person who deserves the privilege of serving my family. I have very high standards, you see. All you need to do today is sit here, eat, and answer my questions honestly. And, Balia?"

"Yes?"

"You will answer honestly…"

Balia found herself speechless. It was the way in which he spoke just then, in a low, dark baritone, that had left her ever so slightly unsettled but he quickly returned to a lighter tone when he finally introduced Violet.

"Balia, this is Violet. She's a member of my crew and has the useful ability of gaining insight into people's minds. She will be listening in on our conversation today."

"As a lie detector…"

"Essentially."

"Alright, but may I ask for one condition?" Even she was surprised to hear herself saying it. His brows furrowed slightly at her confidence, but turned to curiosity when he snickered.

"You certainly are forward in demanding requests. Still, I'm mildly intrigued by what stupid gimmick you think is going to save you this time. Continue. What is your request?"

"…You can only ask me questions that can be answered with yes or no."

"Hmmm," he puzzled for a minute or two.

Though the request might not have seemed all that impressive, it's trick lied within being rather effective in limiting the type of questions the person could ask, as well as the depth of information one could obtain. Still, if she understood his MO well enough, this was a mind game and a man like Joker would be tempted by the challenge of crushing her will to outsmart him. His smile grew wider and she felt a flood of relief.

"You honestly think you'll outwit me, don't you? Very well, then. I agree. Now, please…sit!"

She cautiously made her way closer and tried to ignore the fact that, behind the sunglasses, bloodshot eyes were fixated upon her. She chose a seat a few away from him for good measure.

"Take whatever you want," he offered and she began serving herself some food. He waved for one of the servants. "Do you like orange juice?"

"Um…," Balia glanced and nodded with a polite smile at the waiter, who quickly left to fetch her the drink. Joker was already busy taking a few bites from his stack of pancakes. The way he ate reminded her of a stray dog. However, after only a few minutes of eating, he suddenly turned to address her once again.

"Now, Balia… let us begin, shall we?"

"Fine," she nervously popped a fork full of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

"We'll start simple. Is your real name Balia?"

"Yes," she replied. He glanced over at Violet, who simply nodded and sipped from her coffee casually.

"Good. Next question… do you ever still call me 'Joker'?"

"…yes…"

"Mmm," he grinned as Violet nodded once more but quickly shot Balia a look of confusion. "I applaud your honesty. Just don't let anyone catch you calling me that, you hear? Next question… did someone send you to infiltrate my factory?"

"…No," she realized she was ultimately telling the truth. No one had to send her on that mission. She was willing enough to go on her own.

"Interesting… However, my next question happens to be, 'was that boy, Hidalgo, your crew mate'?"

The question made her hesitate, but she did her best not to show it. There was still time to recover:

"Yes."

"Fufufu! I see."

If Joker merely thought Hidalgo was part of her crew, then perhaps Violet hadn't discussed their conversation with him. Regardless, she wasn't about to show him her cards.

"Good! You're doing well so far! This next question is a bit tougher, though. Are you ready?"

"Yes," her breath hitched in her chest.

"Alright. Question is… Did you really believe I was going to let him go?"

Balia could feel the color rush from her face as her mind hesitated. Had Violet been lying? Was he telling the truth? Did he really never intend on fulfilling his end of the agreement? Her eyes darted around the room in panic and she steadied her breathing as best she could. Violet was looking at her. Her cup of coffee, frozen in position lifted halfway up to her lips. Her eyes were intently peering back but they seemed to soften when they met her gaze.

"Don't let him break you," they almost appeared to say and that was enough that she could feel herself regain control. If she allowed him to get into her head, then he would undoubtedly win. She couldn't let that happen…

"Yes… yes, I'm afraid I did actually believe you'd let him go. You're a 'man of your word' after all, right?"

"I'm flattered you maintained such a positive impression of my character, but I'm afraid it's true. Violet and Trebol got most of the information we wanted out of him before he perished, but there was something he was hiding until the… bitter end. Wasn't there, Violet?"

Violet seemed mildly flustered by the question but answered it all the same: "There was a secret so important that his mind refused to allow me access to it."

"No...," Balia breathed.

"You know, I find it commendable when men hold onto their secrets until their dying breath…"

"No, you're lying…"

"…but I also find it - oh, let's say - suspicious, that a 15 year old boy possesses a secret that important. So important, in fact, that he learned or was trained to build a mental barrier powerful enough to keep out a Devil Fruit user with an ability designed to read minds. Isn't that interesting?"

Balia had stopped listening some time ago. She hated the way it felt when he toyed with her fears. Seething, she slammed her fist onto the table, which rattled loudly:

"HE'S NOT DEAD! I thought you said we were being honest! You're lying to me!"

"Lying? Am I?"

"YES!"

"How can you be so sure? Was I really under any obligation to actually release him? What were you going to do about it if I didn't? What can you even do now?"

His tone was so cocky and calm. He was clearly basking in her fury, which made her pause to take a few deep breaths and try to calm herself. She had to stop responding. Manipulating her emotions was what he wanted. So, instead, she simply sat and stared at him coldly for a minute before continuing to eat her breakfast.

Joker maintained the silence for a while but she noticed that he had begun to quietly chuckle; the sort of chuckle that grew louder and louder.

"Fufufufu! Oh, all right! You got me," he pinched at the bridge of his nose with a smug grin but his gaze was still piercingly focused on her.

"W-what?… I knew it! You were lying! You piece of crap! Why? Why would you do something so cruel?!"

"Because I can," came the blunted reply. "My real question, though, is 'how did you know he was alive'?"

"That's not a yes/no question," she sniffed.

"Ah. Excuse me. You're right. Well, then, I should be asking, 'did someone besides myself confirm to you that the boy is alive'?"

That question was weighted. Could she count on Violet to be telling the truth? If she told him "yes", then that could put Violet at risk but it would also gain some of his trust and provoked suspicion among his crew. Once more, Balia could feel herself struggle with the question, but no matter how she looked at it the benefits outweighed the risks:

"Yes," she replied and Violet subtly shot her a look. However, that look soon turned to one of awareness, as she nodded slightly in reply. She needed Violet to trust her.

"So, someone DID talk to you…," Joker's face grew grim. "Tell me… do I have a rat in my crew? …Answer honestly."

"I don't know."

"That's not a yes or no answer."

"No, but it's the truth…"

He shot Violet a look and she quickly circled her fingers around her eyes like a mask for a few moments. A pose that likely had to do with her abilities.

"She's not lying," Violet responded after some time.

"Hmmm… Very well, then… Did they tell you where he is?"

"…Yes."

"Who was it?"

"That's not a yes/no question."

"I don't care! Tell me who it was!"

"That wasn't our agreement."

For whatever reason, this answer provoked his ire, which brought her both spiteful joy and growing fear.

"Alright…No more games! The name of the one who told you… NOW!" The last word resonated through the hall and made both women jump. She sat in shock, as the mountain of a man quickly rose to his feet and smashed down on the table in a fury. His fists were trembling and his teeth grinding.

"Your insolence has lost its charm… and you greatly underestimate me!"

"Do I?"

"YES!" He shouted at the interruption. "Truth is, some of my men reported having spotted a cloaked figure running away from your cell while they were on patrol. They made it seem like this mystery person may have been coming from your cell."

"Do you want to know the truth?"

"I'd prefer it, actually."

"Fine!… Yes, someone came to visit me. No, I did not see their face. They stood outside the door." It was a simple lie but effective, and Joker's anger slowly turned into bitter realization.

"If you're lying to me, then I'll be putting a very generous bounty on your dear Hidalgo's head," he warned. "He's lucky to have a second chance at life. Don't fuck that up for him, now."

"If Hidalgo was really let go, then you'd never catch him!" Balia stared at him intently, with eyes so filled with hate that she swore she could see into his blackened soul. "He's too smart for scum like you…"

In that moment, unbeknown to her, that very stare was the look he had been dreading. That same defiant and hateful look that haunted him. Joker's teeth clicked as he clenched his jaw tighter and she noticed a vein had begun to pop in his forehead. She was grateful for the good meal, though, as it had given her just enough energy should she need to fight or run.

The waiter had just returned with the orange juice when Joker flipped the table across the room. It didn't take him long to exit promptly and, with impressive form, as he dodged a glass that shattered against the wall. Meanwhile, standing in the eye of the storm, Balia barely dared to move a muscle. A few cups grazed by and a projectile fork had managed to lodge itself into her arm, but she was determined to not be swayed. Violet had managed to duck behind the fallen table and was waiting it out nervously. When it might end, they didn't know. What she did know was that she would not die today. Not at the hands of this twisted, power-hungry man-child who stood before her now, breathing heavily with sweat rushing down his face.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" He rumbled in deep frustration. "You could have a comfortable life here if you'd just submit in complete servitude to me!"

"And what exactly does 'complete servitude' entail?"

"It means that you learn your place! When I summon you for breakfast, you respond with gratitude! When I give you a new room, you thank me graciously! When I keep my end of the deal and spare your comrade's life, you commit to the terms of our agreement without resistance!"

"Let me get this straight… After keeping me prisoner for weeks, starving me, assaulting me, and manipulating me, you're saying that what you truly want is for me to pretend as though I enjoy being around you?"

He winced a little but quickly recovered with a toothy grin, "Is that really too much to ask?"

"You're absolutely pathetic…"

Her words froze the room and Violet peeked over the table with wide eyes. However, unexpectedly, the man didn't snap back in anger. Instead, he merely stood and stared at her in stunned disbelief. From his perspective, this was all quite spontaneous. It was rare that he was ever spoken to with such a tone of condescension or even been accused of being "pathetic", but it was rarer still for him to fail to kill the person who would dare say such things to him! He didn't expect such a blunt response from someone in her dire of a predicament. However, it had also never occurred to him that the woman standing before him could not even BE broken! Yet this was the conclusion Joker had finally arrived at. It was now undeniable: his unstoppable force had finally met an unmovable object.

An unmovable object, indeed! For it seemed to him, with all the weeks of torment and humiliation he ensured she had experienced, that most would have already lost their minds at that point. Still this woman found ways to keep her sanity. The unrelenting conviction of her will power made it clear that this was not a woman he could break. He also could not truly kill her, for what was death to a woman who did not see it as an obstacle? Finally, and what was more, he had found his own will lacking in the desire to kill her! Instead her witty grace, which she maintained through each struggle, remained to him a mystery and far too charming to be rid of… just yet. He still had one more question to ask…

"Infuriating… You are so infuriating!"

"If I'm so infuriating, then why haven't you just killed me?"

"I have one last question…," he changed the topic.

"What?"

"Are you a Devil Fruit user?"

"Yes… I am," she confessed and Violet confirmed it with some surprise.

"I knew it! I'm glad we used sea stone on you, then. What is your ability?"

"…that's not a yes/ no question…"

Joker's face fell into a deadpan expression and he clicked his tongue, "that bullshit again? Fine! Have it your way! I think I've had enough of this discussion for today. Violet, take her back to her room."

Violet nodded curtly and got up from behind the table without a word. All Balia could think of was that she had been victorious this round. It hardly felt like a victory, though. Even after leaving him with more questions than answers, she was still just a prisoner and the war was not yet won.

She stared him dead in the eye.

"You greatly underestimate me", her face was purposefully expressionless. She found a sudden joy in his startled look of shock. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the lodged fork out of her arm and threw it on the scattered floor before swiftly heading out of the hall with Violet in the lead.

Just beyond the doors, Diamante stood. He was likely listening in and his gaze turned to shock and suspicion as she passed, but she couldn't care less. Let them suspect and rack their brains over her. So long as she remained an illusive enigma, she could ensure her survival one encounter at a time…


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
Dear, God! I am so sorry for the long gap between updates, but I have a few chapters already lined up for the next couple months! :) I graduated from my bootcamp at the top of my class, was hired for a great position in a wonderful company the day after graduating, moved into the city a week later, then was swamped with work up until recently. What a year 2015 has been! I certainly hope you all had fantastic New Years and your 2016 is off to a great start! :3 Love you all!

**[CHAPTER 4]**

"A Little Birdie"

_Stay calm... Don't panic..._

As Violet calmly led her down the corridor, she could almost hear the words echo through the deafening silence. Yet, her pounding heart seemed to all but drown them out. Though she did her best to fight it, Balia found the twinge of regret overwhelming. Not one day ago, she had made a promise to this woman and it had already been broken. She had just put Violet at risk. The only member of the family who she could consider an ally, but perhaps it'd be best to just assume the woman now considers her an enemy.

After ducking around the corner and out of Diamante's sight, Violet grabbed her arm and abruptly pulled her into an empty tea room.

"Violet, I'm so sorry," Balia whispered, but she received an unexpectedly surprising response. Violet's wide eyes met with hers for a moment as the door to the room closed with a quiet click.

"What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"What? What do you mean? I-I promised you that I wouldn't tell Joker I had a visitor."

"I told you not to tell him _I_ had visited you… which you didn't, by the way. So, thank you for that," Violet smiled knowingly.

"What? W-well, sure… but he's still going to be looking for whoever it was."

"True, but I suppose I'll deal with that as it comes. In any case, he knew someone visited you because I messed up and allowed myself to be seen. That's not your fault, is it?"

For all the sense those words made, they did little to stop the feeling of guilt from clinging. Violet suddenly frowned:

"Look, I told you to survive and your answers today helped you to do that. I don't fault you for anything you said at breakfast."

"I guess? Okay. Thanks," Balia nodded but winced as the wound on her arm gave a sharp throb.

"Your arm?," Violet walked over and carefully inspected the injury. "The fork went in pretty deep. You may need a few stitches."

"No, I'll be fine."

"Alright. At least let me bandage it up, though. It's bleeding pretty badly. I think that dresser over there has some cloth napkins I could use," Violet walked over and opened a drawer with a sigh. She returned with a clean, white napkin, which she bound around the wound.

"There. It's not ideal but it should stop the bleeding."

"Thanks... Violet?"

"Hm?"

"I-I need to get out of here… I need to find Hidalgo. Tonight."

"Tonight? O-oh. I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why?"

"Well, for the most part, there are way too many of Doflamingo's men patrolling the Royal Palace around the clock. Also, Dressrosa has a strictly enforced curfew at night."

"Oh," Balia frowned.

"Look, I know we need to get you out of here. Believe me, I do. However, Doflamingo is a very observant and clever man. He has eyes everywhere. The opportunity to get out may not arise for some time. Unless…"

"What? …Unless, what?"

"Well, unless you can get him to trust you enough to allow you to leave your room during the day."

"Trust?" Balia scoffed at the idea, "You're kidding! You _did_ see how breakfast went, right?"

"Yes, it could have gone… smoother. Still, you confirmed there's a mole in his crew. While this might be of mild inconvenience to me, it may help him build trust in you. You could have easily chosen to lie and he would have never known."

"It's no offence to you, Violet, but I couldn't risk the chance that he'd see right through any lie I told."

"No. That was wise of you… He's taken a liking to you, though."

"A liking? Ha! Seriously? He called me 'infuriating'."

"You called him 'pathetic'," Violet hid a snicker behind one hand. "And, while it was amusing, it was still very brash of you."

"I don't care. He _is_! Pathetic, that is..."

"Nobody understands your hatred of the man better than I do. But, you know... if it were any other person calling him that, he'd have killed them instantly."

"Y-yeah. I suppose that's true."

"Nothing upsets him more than being looked down upon. He sees himself as a god among mortals and to insult a man with such delusions? Well, let's just say it's a miracle he let you live. It may mean he's having hesitations about killing you... just don't go pushing your luck anymore."

"Fine. I'll try," she sighed. "So, let's say I manage to get him to trust me enough to let me leave my room during the day. Then what?"

"Then we may have a chance. I know many of the secret tunnels leading out of the palace, which Doflamingo is unaware of. Even if he assigns a warden to accompany you wherever you go, we could still find a way to shake them long enough for you to escape. Gaining his trust isn't easy but it's possible. You'll just have to prove your loyalty to him."

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know. You'll have to look for that opportunity wherever you can."

"Look for an opportunity to earn trust. Got it!"

"Excellent. In the meantime, I'll do my best to make sure they don't find the boy."

"Thank you," Balia was genuinely relieved to know Hidalgo had someone looking out for him.

The woman's deep, hazel eyes softened into a smile, "Yes. Well... we had better get you back to your room before someone notices you aren't there yet."

They waited a few minutes for a pair of patrolmen to pass before continuing quickly down the hall. Their walk was filled with hushed suspense. Neither one wanting to be seen too cordial with the other. Violet even gave her the cold shoulder. Yet, as they approached the door to her room, Balia noticed the temperature seemed to literally drop a few degrees and she shuddered. A sudden look of panic on Violet's face made her nervous… They tried to open the door carefully, but found it required a bit of force. Were the hinges…frozen?

Standing in Balia's room to greet them was a tall, svelte woman with long, wavy, green hair. Though her arms were crossed, one graceful hand absently reached up to adjust a pair of thick reading glasses perched atop her head. She appeared to have simply been gazing wistfully out the window but had turned towards them with a mischievous smirk once they entered.

"Monet!" Violet exclaimed with polite surprise, "What are you doing here? I thought you had left already!"

"Oh, afraid not," the woman sighed, a plumb of breath freezing in the air. "The ship needed some repairs and Buffalo is away on business, so I'm delayed until tomorrow. More importantly, though… where have you two been?"

"We took the long route. The girl had an injury that required attending to and I wanted to show Doflamingo's new girl the sunflower gardens," Violet maintained her composure.

"His 'new girl', huh?" The woman's sharp amber eyes looked her up and down quickly, "Hmm... I see. They're quite big, aren't they?"

"Um... P-pardon me?" Balia found herself unsure of how to approach such a question.

"The sunflowers, girl. They're big this year."

"Oh! Yes, well, they're really quite lovely, Madame Monet," Balia blushed and gave a little bow. She could feel the woman's glare.

"Well, how kind that was of you, Violet," Monet turned to smile sweetly but, somehow, the room seemed colder. Who exactly is this woman, Balia wondered.

"Mhm. So, what brings you here, Monet?"

"Straight to the point, huh? Ah, well, I just stopped by to indulge you in something a little birdie told me."

"Gossip?" Violet clicked her tongue but the woman continued on unfazed.

"Mm. Apparently the Young Master is in quite a mood. Something about there being a rat in the crew."

"I'm aware. I was there this morning."

"Were you? Oh, dear. Then my visit has been in vain," Monet giggled and shrugged, stepping towards the door. As she passed, she whispered something to Violet and grinned.

"I'm certain I could have. Have a good voyage, Monet," Violet replied flatly.

A final, curious glance at Balia and the strange woman left without another word. Violet made certain she was gone before turning to address her:

"I need to attend to some things. I must leave you now. Before I do, though, I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh?"

"Why you tell Doflamingo you were a Devil Fruit user? I mean, you weren't lying but... I wasn't able to see that about you before. Even with my ability. How did you keep that from me?"

"Who knows?," Balia shrugged.

"Hm… you're hiding something. I suppose you have your reasons, though. Don't worry. I won't pry."

"Thanks," she nodded patiently and Violet gave a kind (but curious) nod before locking the door behind her.

Once alone, Balia casually walked over to the window sill. Its usual build up of humid condensation seemed to have been converted into a delicate flurry of frost.

"Another one, hm?," she glowered and drew a heart on the glass with a fingertip. "How many others are working for him? Hopefully none I don't know about or I may just be in a bit of trouble after all."


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Phew! Alright, guys! I had a few contract jobs, which took up lots of my time. Unfortunately, work comes first and I don't want to rush through these chapters because I'm too much of a perfectionist to accept mediocrity from my writing. xD

On that note, I made a few changes to the previous Chapter (as of April 4th), because there was something irking me about that chapter. It's not as descriptive as I'm used to with my writing. So, this chapter is actually two parts so that I can fit more in! :) Enjoy and thank you!

**[CHAPTER 5]**

**Part One: "Good or Bad"**

He watched the women walk down the hall and round the corner with a sighed. Diamante just knew he was in for a rough morning and wondered just how many of these mornings he could expect to have before the King tired of his plaything. Put a pin in it. He'd think about that later. Right now, there was business to attend to.

With a deep breath, he promptly entered the banquet hall. As expected, the room was a chaotic mess of wasted food, broken dishes and scattered silverware. Yet, sitting poised among the chaos was the King, who was grumpily coddling his head and surveying the wreckage. Diamante quickly snapped his fingers at the servant for a glass of water, from his left pocket, pulled out a couple of extra-strength pain killers.

"Uahahahaha! Girl's still got some fight, hasn't she, Doffy?" He chuckled in amusement,"What insolence she has!"

Yet, Doffy was somehow clearly annoyed by this. His face hardened and that made Diamante nervous. The servant returned and Doffy turned his attention towards downing the pills. He swallowed them with a deep sigh of exhaustion:

"You better be here with good news about that woman, Diamante," he mumbled in a irritated tone. Yep! He was in for a rough morning.

"U-uh… Yes! Well, I mean, there's the good news! …and then there's the bad."

Doffy frowned and replied tersely, "Let's just get this over with so I can go take a nap. What's the bad news?"

"Well, to be honest, we… uh, we couldn't find anything on the woman… Apologies for listening in but, if she says she's a Devil Fruit user, then she's been good at keeping her ability hidden under the radar of our allies."

"Hm… No, Diamante. Not about my pet. By 'the woman', I meant-"

"Oh, yes! Of course! You meant the G-5 investigation, right?," Diamante suddenly felt himself getting flustered. Hastily reaching into another small pocket, he pulled out a crumpled note, "There has been word from Vergo's post."

Doflamingo impatiently extended a languid hand to speed up the process.

"A-Apparently, the woman from that unit - uh, what's her name? Tashigi! That's it. She's still been snooping around and asking about the reports made on the missing children."

"I've had about enough of aggravating women," the King muttered. "And how is Vergo handling this?"

"He told the nosy girl the parents were just grieving," Diamante found it impossible to suppress a grin.

"And she bought that bullshit?"

"Virgo seems to think so."

"Fufufufu! People's naivety never ceases to amuse me," Doffy sneered. "Regardless, she's rather inconvenient, isn't she? Let me know if she gets any nosier. We may have to dispose of her."

"Yes, Doffy!"

"Anything else?"

"Last thing. We've encountered a minor hiccup with the Ceasar mission. Monet's departure was delayed until tomorrow due to ship malfunction."

"Was the ship not properly prepared?"

"Seems a couple of our guys missed a crack in the hull. As it were, it's the same two guys who bumped half a shipment into the loading bay during the Harp Crew's repairs 3 months ago."

"Hmmm… How forgiving was I during that ordeal, Diamante?"

"Very! We lost 80,000 beli thanks to that mishap! I certainly wouldn't have been so gracious as to have given them a second chance, but you're so much more forgiving than me, my King!"

"And yet they return my forgiveness with negligent insolence and lost time," Doffy growled behind a grin. "Send them to Sugar. We can get better use out of them."

"Right away."

"About Monique… Buffalo and Baby 5 are off retrieving Law, aren't they?"

"Yes! My apologies, Doffy."

"Ah, well. I suppose it can't be helped."

"Yes. Not to worry, though! She'll leave the moment the repairs are done or if Baby 5 and Buffalo return. Whichever comes first," he assured Doflamingo with a wide smile. "In any case, that's all I have to report, my king. Please, get some rest now."

"Excellent work, Diamante. I'd expect no less from you," Doffy rose to his feet and began turning towards the door but paused. "Oi, Diamante."

"Yes?"

"One more thing…"

"…"

"About that woman, Balia… you said there was good news?"

"Ah! Yes! Well, Gladus and Monet have deduced a small clue. They were inspecting her chain mechanisms the other day and discovered that it's made of sea prism and a special kind of metal only found on Prisma Island just south of the Grand Line. The island's only export appears to be that metal, though, and not much else is really known about the island. Other than that intel, she's a ghost! It's most peculiar!"

"Fufufufufu… peculiar, indeed! Tell them to keep searching. We'll figure out who she is… and who sent her eventually."

"As you wish, Doffy!" The man's cheshire smile beamed in the sunlight, as he watched his King exit the hall and into the sunlit corridor.

**—**

**Part Two: "The Unexpected"**

Though he had every intention of heading for a nap, Doflamingo found he couldn't help but make a stop at the palace's library for a bit of reading material before heading back to his room. The previous king of Dressrosa seemed to have had a penchant for reading, as the library had been gifted all number of rare books from allying neighbours. Perhaps he could learn more about this mysterious country of Prisma.

The doors of the library swung open. Doflamingo stepped into the room and closed them behind him before looking about the room. The walls were lined with filled bookcases and, throughout the room, stood pedestals upon which rare artifacts were displayed. Above the mantle of a large, stone fireplace was a heavy, metal shield. Yet, for whatever reason, the room's designers had decided to trade in the standard marble of the palace floors for hardwood, which matched the built in book shelves and gave the room the feeling of being special from the rest of the place. The floorboards were old and in need of oiling, but they also had a tendency to groan loudly under his weight.

Suddenly, from the direction of a back-turned armchair came a startling exaggerated sigh. The chair swivelled around to reveal a man.

"It's supposed to be quiet in a library, you know."

"Hm? Law! Trafalgar Law. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Fufufufufu!" Doflamingo was both puzzled and bemused, "I thought Baby 5 and Buffalo-"

"Had gone to get me? They did," the man's deep stare peered back at him calmly through heavy lids and dark circles. "We arrived 15 minutes ago, but I saw the library and ditched them."

Doflamingo found himself chuckling and carefully studying the man. Leant against the chair was his sword, but Law didn't appear keen on reaching for it. Indeed, the man's hands were calmly folded over a book sitting upon his lap (a thumb absently saving his place) and, tattooed into each of his knuckles, were the letters D-E-A-T-H. He raised a hand momentarily but only to scratch at his black goatee.

"'Surgeon of Death'. That's what you call yourself these days, hm? Fufufufufufu!"

"That's what they call me, yes," Law shrugged.

"Heh! What a gloomy epithet to go by, Law! So you ditched the others, did you? You never did play well with others," he sighed with a smile, but his guest didn't reply. Instead, Law lazily leaned back further into the chair with a cheeky grin and extended his hand to an adjacent lounger.

Doflamingo considered for a moment or two before walking over to join him, "Well, since you're here, I suppose this is as good a place as any to talk… What book are you reading?"

Law looked down and lifted his palm to see the title: "A History of Surgical Practices" by Doctor Hogback.

Doflamingo's smile suddenly grew, as he remember something funny, but decided not to let Law in on the joke. Instead he replied, "any good?"

"His surgical techniques are world renown, but a few of his methods for brain surgery are outdated."

"I'll take your word on it… So, Law! You're a warlord now and, to top off the good news, you've agreed to rejoin my family! I'm so very pleased. Really, I am. However, I can't help but wonder… why the change of heart?"

"Let's just say my crew and I had a falling out. Came to realize you guys were the only loyal family I've got."

"Fufufufu! Touching. Well, we're happy to have you back, Law."

"Thank you."

"Of course you realize, after being away for so long, I might test your loyalty a bit just to be sure," Doflamingo's grin widened.

"Of course," Law smiled back and waved a hand casually.

"Excellent. Well, you're welcome to-"

"LAAAAAAW!" There came a frenzy of footsteps and shouting down the hall and the doors to the library swung open, as a frantic Baby 5 and Buffalo came barreling into the room.

They were clearly out of breath. The busty Baby 5's white maid headband was drooping slightly. Beside her, the massive Buffalo's black hair, which was strangely styled like helicopter blades around his beaver-like face, skimmed the top of the doorframe and unleashed droplets of sweat clinging to the strands into the air like a mist.

"Buffalo! Baby 5!" Doflamingo was slightly irritated at such an abrupt interruption and their dishevelled appearances.

"AH! Young Master," they shouted in unison.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

They both struggled nervously for words before Baby 5 spoke up, "We're so sorry, Young Master! We were bringing Law to you and he suddenly disappeared!"

"That's right - dasuyan!" Buffalo chimed in, "We've been running around the whole palace looking for him - dasuyan!"

"Well, he's right here. You can stop looking," he frowned, as Law gave them a little wave.

"What?!" Baby 5's surprise was replaced with annoyance. With surprising speed, she ran over to loom over Law, "Law! Just what do you think you're doing, running off like that?! You could have at least told us you were going to leave-"

"Shut up!" Law glared coldly at her before rising to his feet. This startled Baby 5, who suddenly burst into tears and meekly hid behind Buffalo.

"Law's so mean," she whimpered, as Law reached for his sword and sighed.

"Oi!" Doflamingo watched the ordeal patiently, but his headache had begun to return, "Baby 5. I need you to show Law to his room. Law, we'll speak more after dinner."

"Sure," Law shrugged.

"You need me?!" Baby 5's mood quickly changed to glee, as they headed out of the room, "Oh, of course, Young Master! Come on, Law… and don't run off this time!"

"Shut up," came Law's annoyed echo from the hall, followed by Baby 5's timid crying. Buffalo turned to join them but Doflamingo stopped him:

"Not you, Buffalo. I need you to go find Monet. Ship repairs have delayed her departure to Punk Hazard, so I need you to take her instead."

"Of course, Young Master -dasuyan!" Buffalo gave a bow before taking his leave. His heavy footsteps carrying down the corridor.

"Finally, peace and quiet," he sighed deeply. "Now, where would I find that book?"

He began searching the old shelves for any title that might contain some information on Prisma Island: a book on small island industries, several books on geology, and a book on rare fauna he had meant to read last week. Yet, it was a copy of the Brag Men, that seemed to grab his attention.

The Brag Men is a collection of odd tales from around the Grand Line, which most would consider too incredulous to be true. However, after a bit of searching, he stumbled across a very short tale about the island of 1000 rainbows, Prisma. Its many rainbows the result of the sun reflecting off the multiple large crystal growths forming on the island's mountain.

As the story goes, an explorer once spotted the beautiful island from afar. However, upon landing ashore and glimpsing the tree line for but a moment, he saw a strange, surreal creature and abruptly blacked out. He awoke in the village of white haired people, after the locals had found him.

When asked what had happened, they spoke of a creature called Prisma. They believed Prisma to be a guardian of the island but so beyond human comprehension that it caused people to pass out at the mere sight of it. Even curiouser was how every description of the creature was always different, so no one who claimed to encounter it could agree upon what it actually looked like. Indeed, even the explorer found his memory of its features fuzzy!

Enthralled, the explorer decided to dedicate the remaining 42 years of his life towards finding and documenting the creature of Prisma Island and also opening a trade route for the town's unique precious metals.

"Hm… so he never was able to prove its existence? Fufufufu! The fool wasted his life on a folklore," Doflamingo chuckled but was still intrigued. "Yet, who can blame him? A creature, whose mere existence is beyond comprehension? If such a thing were to exist, would it ever let it be known?"

With a satisfied grin, he closed the book with a dusty snap, gathered up his selections and carried them off to his room for further reading. The spark of determination renewed, to uncover the secrets of the mysterious, warrior woman from the mysterious, little island, failure to identify her was not an option. If they couldn't determine from where this attack originated from, then they may just be in a bit of trouble after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6: "ALL THE KINGS HORSES"**

Author's Note: Once again, I've utterly slacked in working on this story! My poor ability to focus doesn't often allow me to devote much train of thought towards writing things out. However, no matter how long it takes, I'm devoted to completing this story! So, please don't worry and I hope you'll all have patience with me. :)

**PART I: DARK CASTLE**

With silent footsteps, he carefully stalked through the ruins of the abandoned, snowy village. The slight weight of a small, frail body nestled into the curve of his back and hid among the charcoal feathers of his coat. The boy groaned and shifted restlessly, muttering in his sleep:

"C-Cora…san?"

Some distance ahead stood an old castle atop a hill; its windows mostly darkened, except for a few brightly lit and echoing with the chorus of celebrations. In contrast, the shops and homes of the town below were drab, boarded up and lonely. Closer by, a row of battered little townhouses. Upon entering one of them, and gagging back a sneeze from the dusty air, he observed the boxes and furniture. They were strewn about from a quick eviction… or perhaps it had merely been looted long ago. Whatever the case, it seemed as good a place as any to leave the boy for a while.

He set him down upon the hardwood floor and brushed aside the wool blanket to inspect the boy's face: blotched and pale, but with cheeks flushed pink from a fever that wouldn't break.

"Still breathing. Good. Just hold on a little longer, Law."

_Hold on a little longer_… Somehow, he was surprised by the sudden feeling of hope those words evoked within him. Not too long ago, these words were empty. Nothing more than a mantra of false hope, which he had repeated so often over the last six months.

When they had first set sail, his reasons for doing all this were so very clear: the boy's family name was a curse. He'd have been a ticking time bomb under the dark influence of his twisted older brother. Yet, lately he could no longer feel so certain of why he had even put an mortally ill child through all of this. All he knew was that it was no longer just about refusing to let Law follow in Doffy's bitter footsteps.

No. Now, ensuring Law lived a full life had become something of a personal quest. Perhaps even a shot at redemption…

From the moment he first met the boy, he could see how his heart was defended like a castle. Around it were stone walls; carefully built with bricks of cold looks and cruel mannerisms, to guard against an even colder and crueler world. A world that had failed this boy so many times. Unbeknownst to Law, however, he was now on a mission to sneak past these defences. Like a silent thief, his goal was to rob him of the hopelessness, which kept this child a prisoner of his own fatalism.

Frankly, though, a thief could only do so much. It wasn't enough. It was only one of the many roles he had played for Law. He would be whoever Law needed him to be. Even if it meant keeping him alive for one more day, he would be anything… a motivator, a guardian, and even a jester! Or perhaps a-?

NO! He found himself cringing at his own austerity. No, he knew he could never replace this boy's father. That was not his place and it wasn't what Law needed. He needs a sentinel; not a surrogate. A mentor, who could show him a world far away from the cruel world he knows. But… how else could he explain the paternal love he felt for this rude but strong-willed boy?

Day-by-day, he felt like a clumsy fool; counselling in the court of a dying and cynical king. By night, though, as Law slept peacefully nearby, he'd scour desperately over maps of the world looking for the next hospital to try. Other nights he'd just drink… Drink and beg to the stars to cast their light upon some good fortune.

That is until one day good fortune arose from one of the most unlikeliest of places: a Den-Den call from his brother.

Unexpectedly, Doffy had called to check in on their travels, but also to let slip the whereabouts of the Op-Op Fruit: a Devil Fruit which bestows anyone the ability to perform miraculous surgical operations and cure any illness. It was just what they needed and, although Doffy passing on this information was suspiciously convenient, it was also too good an opportunity to pass up. This time… "Hold on a little longer" didn't sound so empty. All he needed to do is steal the fruit from the pirates on this island and have the boy eat it.

If he could just complete this mission, that fruit should fix everything! Unless…

He paused for a moment and then reached into his coat pocket to pull out a crumpled (and slightly burnt) piece of paper. He read over it quietly:

"I can't afford to fail this," he reminded himself and began to head for the door. He was suddenly stopped by Law rustling in his sleep. The boy lifted his head and sat up groggily, as he hastily tucked the paper back into his coat pocket.

"Corazon?" Law spoke weakly and rubbed his eyes, "Where are you going?"

"Good. You're awake. Now, listen… Law, I can't take you with me from here," he opened the door with a squeak. Standing in the doorframe, the towering man turned back to look at the boy: "I know it's hard but… wait here for a while."

When the boy's face grew worried, he realized the risk of Law trying to follow. Quickly thinking of something to say, he flicked a peace sign and smiled with a silly voice: "I'll be back in no time… with the Op-Op Fruit!"

He was glad this seemed to reassure Law, who gave a small, weak smile back at him. He didn't have much time, but he took a moment to cherish this before heading back out into the cold and towards the castle.

**PART II: RUBBLE**

It had been a while since Balia had walked these halls. She hadn't been here for a few years now but nothing seemed to have changed. The clacking noise her shoes made was a welcoming and familiar sound. This time she was accompanied by two young marines, who escorted her towards the boardroom.

As they approached the large double doors, she could hear voices talking amongst themselves inside and wondered again, for the 100th time that week, what she had been summoned to Marineford for. Yet, just as one of the marines gave the door a quick knock, the voices quickly fell silent.

"Come in," boomed a man's voice. Upon entering, Balia's looked around to see three familiar faces sitting around the boardroom desk.

On the left sat Vice Admiral Tsuru: a thin, older woman, who patiently watched Balia walk across the room to take a seat. The woman's greying hair was tied into a tight ponytail. Of all the people at the table, she knew Tsuru the least, but always respected how the woman exuded such strength, composure, and dignity. A polite smile curled Tsuru's lips for just a moment, as Balia took a seat across from her, but then quickly fell back into a slight frown.

Sitting beside Tsuru was Vice Admiral Garp, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here. It made her anxious, how he sighed and nervously scratched at the back of his neck. She recalled how, whenever she saw him, he would always offer her a doughnut, or a bit of whatever he'd been snacking on. Yet, despite the awkward grumbles of his stomach, there wasn't anything present to eat today.

Finally, Fleet Admiral Sengoku sat stoically at the end of the table. He was a man she'd considered to be like a surrogate grandfather. Today, the fluffy, ebony afro upon his head was squashed under his stylized Marine cap, complete with signature seagull perched on top. As a girl, that hat had always felt a bit playful to her, but this time was different. Underneath the novelty, his eyes appeared tired, hollow and slightly puffy. Even as she entered, Balia noticed how he did not even once meet her gaze. Instead, they were focused down at something he was fidgeting with.

These three individuals are at some of the highest levels of the Marines. A request for your presence from one of them typically meant only one of two things: they needed her to come out of retirement, or they had bad news they couldn't - or perhaps wouldn't - deliver any other way. Considering her presence was requested by Sengoku himself, she had a terrible feeling it wasn't the former.

"Thank you for coming, Balia-san. We're grateful you could make it on such shor-," Garp began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Sir. With all due respect, just tell me why I'm here. Please," Balia's wrung her hands together and braced herself. Yet, although she waited for a response, the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. All three simply sat there. Not one of them knowing what to say. She could sense each one of them struggling to find the words. Tsuru and Garp glanced at one another uneasily, before Tsuru finally spoke up:

"Balia-san, we're sorry to inform you that Commander Donxiote Rosinante was tragically killed while on duty."

"What? H-how?," Balia failed to stop her voice from cracking.

"As you know some of the details of his mission are top secret, but we believe his cover had been compromised."

"Wait. That's it? That's all you can tell me?"

"Yes..."

"Are you serious?!" Balia could feel herself getting upset, "Rosinante's dead and that's all you can tell me?! Bullshit!"

"Listen," Garp began. "We're all sorry for your loss, but-"

"Sorry? What am I supposed to do with your sorries? What do they do for Hidalgo?"

"Hidalgo?" Garp clumsily looked down at his papers.

"Her son," Sengoku chimed in.

"Oh! Yes, of course! You had a recent addition to the family. Erm… Congratulations, I suppose… Well, you'll be given gratuity, of course."

"No disrespect, sir, but I'm not talking about money. What am I supposed to TELL my son?"

"Balia," Sengoku interrupted with a deeply frustrated and remorseful tone. "I know this isn't easy for you… It hasn't been easy for you going through the pregnancy, and now raising this child, without him. None of us are attempting to downplay your grief. Nor can any of us bring him back… though we would if we could…"

Sengoku's posture seemed to shrink slightly, but then he continued on:

"All we can do now is try to make life a little easier for you in any way we can. Just know the Marines take care of their own and the families of fallen soldiers. Naturally, we'll handle funeral expenses, and you'll have all the support you'll need for yourself and the baby."

"B-but, he still won't have a father… Sengoku… He… H-he never even got to meet-…," the sudden realization was too much for Balia to bear and she burst into tears. Garp squirmed uncomfortably.

"I hate you for making me be here for this, you know," he mumbled at Sengoku and gave her a sympathetic look. All Sengoku could do was heave a heavy sigh.

"Don't make me out to be a bad guy, Garp-san. Nobody here wants to tell someone their loved one is gone, but given your former position in the marines, Balia, I felt it was only right you heard about this from us. I can only hope Hidalgo will come to understand his father was a hero, who valiantly died trying to stop a wicked man from hurting a lot of people."

"A wicked man?," she stopped crying upon hearing these words. Was this a clue? "Who exactly is this man?"

Realizing his slip, the old man began to back-peddle, "I shouldn't have said that! You know I can't-"

"Why? Why can't you tell me, Sengoku-san?! Just tell me!"

"Balia!" Everyone jumped a little as Sengoku slammed his fists down, "I have known you for most of your life. That's why I know just what a headstrong woman you are. You'd put yourself in harms way if it meant getting revenge for Rosinante, but I'll be damned if I help you do something so reckless! I won't allow you-"

"You won't allow me? What does it matter to you if I kill the bastard who took him from me?"

"Balia, please! Even with your ability, you don't know how powerless you'd be against him!"

"THEN TELL ME…," she was surprised by her own outrage at this point, and took a breath before continuing. "Sorry… I just… Please? Sengoku… please."

"Absolutely not," interjected Tsuru. "That information is on a 'need-to-know' level, Sengoku. Don't you DARE tell her! Balia, we won't tell you who he is because we know if he ever found out who you are and what your ability can do, he'd use you to hurt innocent people!"

"I would never let that happen!"

"You wouldn't have a choice," Tsuru snapped back.

Balia suddenly fell silent in exhausted defeat. Sighing and shaking his head, Sengoku finally resigned to the fact that he was never very good at handling stubborn types, but his hands were tied.

"Balia, the main reason why we called you here was because Rosinante left this for you." He slid the crumpled piece of paper he had been fidgeting with towards her and added: "Read it when you're ready. You'll be contacted within a few days about the funeral."

"That's really it, then? That's all you'll tell me…?"

"I'm afraid so."

"…Alright, then. Thank you," she replied meekly and rose from her seat. Giving a respectful bow, Balia quickly exited the room.

She didn't wait for the two, young marines to escort her back down the hall, but instead marched briskly past them and onto her sleeping quarters alone. Once there, she curled up into a ball on the bed and cried. In fact, she cried until she could cry no more. It was only after her last tear had dried when she decided to read the letter Sengoku passed on to her.

First, she inspected the paper: a thin, crumpled piece of parchment, with one burnt corner. Some of the ink had been blurred from water stains, but his code name for her was scrawled across the folded paper and the writing was undeniably his. Opening the letter, it read:

_"My dear Opal Eyes,_

_Sorry for having not written in so long. We haven't seen each other since Loguetown, I think. I guess that really makes this letter even more difficult for me to write._

_If I'm being honest, I'd confess something important. I've diverted from my assigned post. Why? Well, it's a long story but I came across a young boy, who is dying from a rare and incurable disease. I'll admit, for the last six months, we've been out searching for a cure. We've come up empty-handed for all that time, though._

_Recently, we had a positive turn of events. I think there might actually be a chance to save him! It just comes with some heavy risks…_

_I know. I know… You're probably pretty pissed off right now. I realize how selfish it is for me to put myself in harm's way, but… well, if you're reading this then you probably already know I've messed up for good this time."_

Balia took a moment to place a hand over her mouth and breathed heavy through the tears, as she read on:

"Believe me when I say, starting a new life and travelling the world with you, has kept me looking forward to the future every day. I had perhaps naively hoped this brave boy could have joined us on our adventures but, if I should fail, that's unlikely to happen. I hadn't mentioned you to him, though. There's a lot of things I haven't had he chance to say. I wanted him to just focus on surviving first.

Anyways… I never could figure out why you ever gave a klutz, like me, the time of day but I'm sure glad you did! Just getting the chance to love you has been one of the greatest gifts in my life. I've asked so much of you already and what's worse is I've broken my promise of returning to you, but I hope you might do one last thing for me: forget this useless fool and find love again.

Sincerely,  
Rosinante"

She had stared at the letter in silence for sometime and wondered how… how could he have been so stupid? Of course she'd forgive him! But to "forget him"?! What cruel thing to ask of her! He was never a "useless fool" in her eyes. No, he had always been the same silly, charming boy, who quite literally swept her off her feet during their first day of marine training. His awkward apologies and introductions, after slipping in the obstacle course mud and toppling into her, seemed disarmingly sweet at the time! She could never forget that!

At least… that's what she had always hoped. Eventually, though, memories of his unkempt, blond hair and child-like grin seemed to disappear in an instant, until one day she looked at Hidalgo and realized he was the only reason why she could still vaguely remember his face.

In fact, her mind was cursed. It was her Devil Fruit which had cursed her, actually. For she was an "imaginary woman", who had consumed the Sozo-Sozo (Imagine Imagine) Fruit. Though it grants her the ability to suggest or block any thought or idea in the mind of those she makes physical contact with, the drawback was it took from her own collection of memories, without prejudice towards which ones it stole.

She had long since forgotten most of her childhood and teenage years. The names, faces and recollections of friends she once knew so well would occasionally be erased. Although those who knew her generally remained sympathetic and even patient during the awkward reintroductions, she still felt alone. He was probably the only person alive who made her feel understood. His penchant for clumsiness was well suited for her forgetfulness. He was especially supportive when it'd worsen after using her ability and he'd always say some little phrase of wisdom to cheer her up… though, sadly, she could no longer remember what it was he'd always say…

During the years following his death, Balia worked tirelessly to find his killer, while struggling to raise Hidalgo alone. At first, it felt like the weight of the world would crush her. Until, one day, she met a new set of friends. Allies, who would go on to help her piece together her shattered life and find the answer she had been looking for. The answer to the one lingering thought which kept her going… the alias of the man who had killed the love of her life…

"You destroyed my world," Balia whispered and glared out the barred window into the courtyard. "But you've made a fatal error, haven't you? You underestimated him… and you now underestimate me. Until the day I die, I swear I won't stop until I tear down your kingdom brick-by-brick, with my bare hands, and crush you under its rubble… Joker!"


End file.
